


Paradoxalement, Pour Vous

by plaindealingvillainess



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Dubious Morality, F/M, Infidelity, M/M, what have I done?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 01:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaindealingvillainess/pseuds/plaindealingvillainess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't and it won't be the worst thing Q's done in the name of Queen and Country.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradoxalement, Pour Vous

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes the Muse makes demands. I honestly don't know where this came from or why I wrote it. She wanted what she wanted, and I just did as I was told.

After the first time, Q nearly vomits. Bond had brought him tea, which was sweet, even if the aftertaste of bile did seem to follow each sip. Even if each nod of assent and smile seems impossible. It isn’t and it won’t be the worst thing Q’s done in the name of Queen and Country. (Cold, impersonal text, the sound of screams on speakers which ring with the nose, psychological minutae found, sobbing tears and fractured whispers.) And yet.

He can’t help but imagine the scent of jasmine as their lips touch.

_“Obviously, as an organization, we cannot attempt to affect your decision in this matter.”_

_It’s a line, and they both know it. There’s no point in asking about individuals, no point in asking for that reassurance in writing. Though it’s true that Q could refuse, job intact, it’s also true that he could disappear in the morning. It’s also true that he owes these people, it’s also true that there are very few things he wouldn’t do, if asked by the organization he’d given so much of his life to._

_What is that last piece, really, compared to all the rest?_

The second time, Q can’t hide his shiver as 007 enters the room, though his features are carefully schooled by the time he turns around to face the agent behind him 

The car is dark and the restaurant is wonderful. Q will never forgive himself for enjoying the fine champagne (joking remarks that he manages to field with quips of his own, somehow, the give and take that had become reflexive coming in impossibly handy now), for catching 007’s eye and not leaning back when the older man moves forward.

The kiss is perfect, everything Q could ever have imagined. There’s no performance in the way he melts into it, returns it. But neither is there any act in the way his eyes widen. It’s not with regret that he pulls away. Not reluctance. Guilt. 

There are flashes of green in Bond’s eyes when he promises Q time.

_She’s beautiful, smart and quick and perfect. So, so giving, willing to share everything she is even when she’s receiving so little in return, so little time, so little energy, so little faith._

_Technically, she doesn’t exist in relation to him. Q’d been careful, knowing that she’d be seen as a number on a page, a liability, a honeypot. He’d left, for a time (‘Walkabout. I need this, ‘Nessa, but I promise I’ll come back.’ Back when he could still promise and mean it, and follow through.), but in the end he had returned, connections cleared and job secured, and when she saw him at the door her eyes lit with joy, for a moment it had seemed she could hardly breathe._

_She deserves better, so much better than the lies and cheating and darkness that Q’s found, and all he wants is to tell her, sometimes, when he’s sick to his stomach with it. But for Queen and Country, he stays silent. He looks into those eyes, plays with her hair, and lets the lies flow easily._

_She has green eyes to match her reddish hair, soft strands which smell faintly of jasmine._


End file.
